


Because It's the Cup

by MegMHanna



Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: AU, F/M, Hockey!Tom, Locker Room Sex, PWP, Smut, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tom is a sexy NHL goalie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3289829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegMHanna/pseuds/MegMHanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and his girlfriend celebrate his teams win</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because It's the Cup

It was the Western Conference finals. Game 7. Winner plays for the Stanley Cup. It would come down to a shootout. I had spent the entire overtime period on my feet, watching the puck feverishly, as if my concentration would determine the outcome of the game. When the horn signaling the end of a scoreless overtime sounded, I immediately glanced towards the net - or, more specifically, at Tom, my gorgeous NHL goalie boyfriend. We started dating during the offseason, having been introduced by my brother, who had gone to school with Tom. Somehow, he had managed to get me a single season ticket. The seats weren’t great, but I was thrilled to able to be there for Tom to cheer him on, at his home games at least. 

After the ice had been cleaned, Tom skated back to his net and pushed his helmet up briefly to take a quick draw from his water bottle before the shootout began. His hair was slightly damp with sweat, and one errant curl hung down in his face. I saw him glance up towards me, and smirk when he noticed I was bouncing on the balls of my feet, the nervous energy coursing through me making me unable to keep still. I waved and blew him a kiss. He winked at me, the look on his face was excited, yet intensely focused. I smiled and bit my lip in anticipation. He was always so horny after a game - something about the adrenaline, he said. I couldn’t disagree with him. There was something sensual, almost erotic about the flow of a hockey game. Six players working seamlessly together, gliding effortlessly across the ice, intensely focused in that battle for control of the puck, so in sync with their teammates as to be able to respond to the smallest gesture…

A cheer rose up from all around me, bringing me back to the present. We had gone up 1-0, with one shooter left from the opposing team. This was Tom’s favorite thing, he had told me. No distractions, no outside interference, just shooter versus goalie. Skill on skill alone. The shooter started at center ice, zig-zagging back and forth with the puck, trying to get Tom to commit too far to one side and leave the other half of the net open. I had seen Tom play often enough to know that coast-to-coast BS never worked. I noticed the smallest of movements as he shifted his weight back and forth, his eyes not on the puck but on the shooter’s eyes. They gave away everything, he’d said. 

“Come on, baby, come on. You got this,” I whispered, urging him on from afar. The shooter was getting too close; he had to commit soon. He tried to pop the puck over Tom’s glove hand at the last second, but Tom was too tall for him and he made an easy glove save. The arena erupted in screaming cheers, and I joined them. My boyfriend was going to the Stanley Cup!

I texted him immediately, knowing he would read it in the locker room.

Great game, baby! I’m so proud of you. Wanna go out and celebrate? XO

I waited for him to respond for what seemed like forever after the game. I was still sitting in the arena long after the fans had cleared out. I was getting impatient, wondering what could possibly be taking him this long when my phone buzzed from inside my pocket.

Come on back to the locker room, darling. I’ve told security to let you through. xx -T

Well, that was new. I’d never been allowed inside the locker room before. Tom insisted it was supposed to be a “distraction free zone” and I’d had to respect that. I hopped the low wall that separated the seats from the tunnel leading to the lockers. I opened the door tentatively, not knowing if anyone was still there.

“Come in, darling! We’re all alone; don’t be shy.” I heard the laughter in his voice, but I couldn’t pinpoint which direction it was coming from.

“Where are you?” I called, wandering into the locker room.

“Right here,” he whispered in my ear. I jumped and whirled around as I felt his breath on my neck. 

He was … I didn’t even have the words. I was utterly speechless. He stood there, in nothing but his hockey pants and gloves. He was holding his stick and had his skates slung over his shoulder. He had that smirk on his face, the one that said he knew full well what he was doing to me. All I could do was stand there are stare at him, mouth slightly agape. My body was suddenly hyperalert. My breathing sped up and I could feel the heat growing between my legs. I needed to touch him. Now. I started towards him mindlessly, but before I could reach him, he grabbed my shoulders and held me at arms length, shamelessly checking me out.

“This is … new,” he said, voice slightly strained, gesturing up and down my body. It took a moment for my lust-addled mind to figure out what he was referring to. Oh, right. The jersey. Without saying a word, I slowly turned back around and moved my hair over my shoulder so he could see his own name and number splashed across my back.

“You like it?” I asked breathlessly.

I heard the clatter of his stick and skates hitting the ground as he spun me around and pressed me up against his locker. I could feel his erection pressing against me through his pads as he devoured my neck, leaving rough kisses and love bites up and down the length of it. He came up for air and spoke in my ear, his voice soft but rough with need as he bit gently on my earlobe. 

“You look so fucking sexy in my jersey, love.” His words sent a shudder rippling through me. 

Normally, I would have laughed and called him a narcissistic ass, but my mind was far too clouded with lust to speak. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to meet mine. I kissed him hungrily, biting his lower lip in a request for entrance. He complied and greedily pulled my tongue into his mouth, suckling on it. I moaned into the kiss, and he pulled me even closer into him, one arm around my lower back and his other hand - still encased in its glove - cupped the back of my head, making it impossible for me to pull away. Not that I wanted to. The kiss was all passion and no finesse - a battle of lips and tongues and teeth. Eventually our need for oxygen won out against our need for each other, and I broke the kiss with a whine.

“Tom, I …”

“Shhh, love. I know.” He led over me to a long wooden bench and gently laid me out on it. My legs were splayed out to either side, my arms over my head crossed at the wrists. He simply stared down at me for a long moment. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable, and I squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. After a moment he reached down and gently lifted my head. Using his teeth, he pulled one of his gloves off and placed it under my head as a cushion against the hard bench. He placed a chaste kiss on my forehead and whispered “I love you.”

And just like that, the fire was back in his eyes. He pressed down on my wrists, holding me in place as he pulled the neck of my jersey aside and attacked the sensitive patch of skin where my neck met my shoulder. He bit and sucked, determined to mark me, to claim me. His other hand skimmed lightly down my chest to the hem of my jersey. He pulled up the jersey and the camisole I wore underneath until it bunched under my arms, running his fingers over my bare skin as he went. His long, graceful fingers left trails of tingling heat behind them, and I gasped loudly when he finally kneaded my breast. His touch was torture, every brush of his skin against mine only turned me on more. I was so wet for him, I was sure I had soaked through my panties. I tried to sit up so he could remove my clothing. I was desperate to be naked, to feel him pressed up against me with no barriers between us, but he pressed down harder against my wrists.

“No,” he whispered. “Leave it on. I want to fuck you in my jersey. I want my name written across your back as I fill you, so you remember that you are mine.” I felt my pussy clench at his words.

Then what the hell are you waiting for?! I wanted to ask, but I was too far lost in arousal to speak. I could only let out a groan and arch myself up towards him.

Impatiently, he pulled the cup of my bra down and latched his lips around my hardened nipple. I let out a moan that echoed around the tile and concrete room. Without releasing my wrists or ceasing his attention on my breast, his other hand roamed down to the button of my jeans. He struggled for a moment, trying to undo it with one hand, before letting out a frustrated growl and sitting up. I whimpered at the loss of his mouth on me, but I lifted my hips to help him remove my jeans and panties. He slid them slowly down my legs, kissing and nipping at each new patch of skin he revealed, pausing only to remove my shoes before resuming his sweet, slow torture.

He kissed and massaged back up my legs, slowly, hungrily, as if savoring the taste of me. My toes, ankles, calves, knees all received equally thorough attention. A steady stream of moans, pleas, and Tom’s name escaped my mouth as he lingered over my inner thigh, exploring with his teeth and tongue, rising slowly higher. I began to quiver from the pleasure as he inched closer to my opening. He’d reduced me to a writhing, moaning mess, and he hadn’t so much as grazed my clit yet. 

“T-Tom...please. Ah! God, I need you…Touch me. Please.” I moaned desperately, reaching down to tangle my fingers through his curls, pulling him closer to me.

He chuckled darkly against my leg. “Of course, my sweet love. All you had to do was ask.”

I growled in frustration and yanked on his hair. He let out a groan and pulled my knees over his shoulders as he nuzzled his face into my sex. 

“Fucking hell, love. You’re practically dripping. All for me?” I felt him smirk against me and I tugged his hair once more. He chuckled again, but finally relented.

I let out a keening cry and arched against him as he licked firmly up the entire length of my sex, ending with a flick of his tongue over my clit. 

“Mmmm,” he moaned against me, the vibrations making me gasp in pleasure. “You taste divine, my love. I’ve been craving this for hours.” He licked around my clit as he rubbed two fingers up and down against my opening, coating them with my wetness. He latched onto my clit and sucked hard as his fingers pushed roughly into me. My legs began to shake as he curled his fingers in a “come hither” motion, massaging my g-spot. 

“Oh! Fuck, Tom...I’m so close!” I whined, my body wound up almost painfully tight.

“Then let go. Come for me, my beautiful darling.” The low growl of voice finally sent me over the edge. My eyes rolled back in my head and my entire body arched up off the bench as I let out a scream of pleasure that echoed all around the cavernous room. I felt myself clench hard around his fingers, still working me, drawing out my orgasm for as long as possible before I collapsed back against the bench, my body completely limp. Tom withdrew his fingers from me and crawled back up my body, kissing my neck gently to help me come back down. I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought his lips to mine in a chaste kiss.

He wrapped his arms around me and fell backwards onto the bench, reversing our positions so I was leaning over him. His face was shiny with sweat, and he was still wearing his pads.

“Please, love. I can’t wait any longer.” He whispered, his voice strained with need.

“Oh, baby,” I cooed, still a little breathless. I leaned down over him and kissed his collar bone, slowly working my way down his body. I suckled briefly at his nipple and tugged at it lightly with my teeth. He let out a low moan and screwed his eyes shut.

“Fucking hell, love...don’t tease me. I won’t last.” 

I smiled up at him as I placed a chaste kiss on his navel. Making sure his eyes were still focused on me, I moved further down his body and gripped the laces of his pads in my teeth and sat slowly up. I heard the gratifying whisper of the nylon as the knots came undone, and the catch of Tom’s breath as he watched me. I ran my hands down his hips and legs, removing both the pads and his boxers at the same time. He let out a sigh of relief as his gorgeous cock sprang free from its confines. It stood fully erect, practically purple with need. 

I licked my palm and gently gripped him around the base. I stroked him firmly several times, running my thumb over the tip, spreading the beads of precum over him. His groans and low muttered curses were rapidly reigniting my own arousal. I rose up over him and aligned his cock with my entrance. Without warning, I sunk down on him, relishing his strangled cry as I took all of him in at once. I hissed at the tight fit, and held myself still for a moment.

“Ah! Tom, you’re so … fucking big…God you feel so good..” I moaned.

“Darling, I … fuck … I need you to move. I-I’m not going to last long.” He begged through a clenched jaw. 

Nodding, I braced myself on his shoulders and rocked my hips against him, using my knees raise and lower myself on his cock. I gasped at the pleasurable, full feeling of him stretching me. He let out a harsh moan and his hands came up to grip my hips tightly as he bucked his hips up further into me. 

“Fuck, baby. I’m so close...touch yourself, love. Come with me,” he screwed his eyes shut and bit down hard on his lip, trying to hold back his release.

I reached between us and began to rub tight circles over my clit, still slippery and sensitive from my orgasm. Between his cock and my fingers, I was quickly brought to another delicious peak. I moaned and quivered as my pussy clenched around him. My orgasm set off his, and he let out a long, low moan as he released deep inside me.

I collapsed on top of him, breathless and utterly spent. We wrapped our arms around each other and drifted in the afterglow, oblivious to everything except the other’s presence. After a few moments Tom sat us both up and slipped slowly out of me. He kissed my temple and walked on shaky legs to grab a towel. He cleaned us both up and helped me to dress in a comfortable silence. As he was dressing in the street clothes he kept in his locker, I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind.

“You’re going to the Stanley Cup, baby,” I didn’t even try to mask the pride and excitement in my voice. “How would you like to celebrate?”

“By taking you home with me, my love,” he replied with a smirk. “You’re the only trophy I need tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by a piece of fan art. check it out [ here ](http://elfpunk.tumblr.com/post/109702238510/i-think-i-think-i-can-hear-your-tears-already)!


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